


of nail polish and friendship

by raleighpuppy



Series: home isn't a place, it's people, and i'm at home with you [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Chuck Lives, Nail Polish, Post-War, Trans Character, Yancy Becket Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3734932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raleighpuppy/pseuds/raleighpuppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over, the kaiju are gone, and Chuck, Mako, Raleigh, and Yancy all live together in a cozy house in Sydney. All should be good.<br/>But Chuck notices Yancy seems lonely.<br/>And he decides to fix that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of nail polish and friendship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haveyouseenmyshoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haveyouseenmyshoe/gifts).



> So, this is the first fic in an AU I've made with the help of fortunefavorstheshoe.tumblr.com in which Yancy and Chuck both live, Yancy is trans, Chuck, Mako, and Raleigh are all ace and in a relationship, and the three of them (plus Yancy!) live in an apartment together in post-war Sydney.
> 
> I hope you like it!

Yancy paints her nails every Friday night; it's a fact of life.

Chuck watches Yancy paint her nails every Friday night; that's also a fact of life.

Throughout the week, Chuck tells himself that it doesn't mean much, that it shouldn't matter to him too much that his boyfriend's older sister/ex-copilot looks a bit sad every Friday night as she paints her nails a new color, that he's noticed the fact she looks a bit down-trodden and a bit lonely. He's no stranger to either feeling; he knows them well. 

(He doesn't think he's seen her repeat a color. It troubles him a little how he knows this.)

He manages to push it out of his thoughts until a Friday night comes when Mako and Raleigh aren't home because the UN wants to talk to the PPDC's poster couple (though they're not a couple-- they're a trio with Chuck in it too-- but the UN doesn't know that) and America's Sweetheart, a name Chuck gives Raleigh hell for because of course this big, bumbling golden retriever man is America's Sweetheart.

Yancy pushes on because she's a soldier and a Becket and that's what soldiers and Beckets do best. But it's hard. It's hard when both her parents are dead and her little sister is god-knows-where and her body doesn't feel quite right-- it's too big and it's too bulky and she has no figure to speak of. She's probably the least womanly woman to ever walk the Earth, but at least she has her hair, which is about chin-length, and she has her nails.

But then there's Chuck watching her and it makes the whole situation worse because she can feel him judging.

And it burns a little.

Chuck turns up the volume on the TV and grabs a beer from the kitchen, hoping to drown a weird feeling in his chest. He sets a beer on the floor next to Yancy. It's her favorite; she didn't know he knows what her favorite it. A bit of the tightness in her chest leaves as she pops off the cap and takes a sip.

"Thanks."

She doesn't speak to him much. She knows Raleigh and Mako like him, but she can't exactly place why.

"'s no problem," he replies. "Ya looked like ya need a beer."

She nods, and then goes back to painting her nails. Tonight's color is a sky blue, a really pretty light blue, one that makes Chuck think of Raleigh's eyes no matter how cliched and lame that is. And then that weird feeling is back in his chest and Yancy looks so sad, so much sadder than someone her age should look and it pierces Chuck who watches her paint her nails, observing each stroke, instead of watching the movie on TV. There's a heaviness in her movements like something, perhaps experiences and discomfort and a bit of loneliness, is weighing her down and he wants that heaviness gone. It's not fair.

The words are spilling out of his mouth before he knows it: "D'ya want t' paint my nails?"

She blinks and looks up, surprised by the question and how he's staring at her, right at her despite her visible and terrible and deep scars, without flinching like he's offended by the damage or avoiding her gaze like he's sorry for her. There's no pity in his eyes; after all, he has his own collection of drivesuit scars and physical damage.

His heart is pounding in his chest and the pounding picks up the longer she remains speechless. And he desperately hopes he hasn't said the wrong thing, said something stupid, said something to upset her at all.

His heart breaks when she lowers her head, crying, her face just barely obscured by her shoulder-length hair.

"No no no," he breathes as he moves to kneel next to her. "Please don't cry."

She leans into him, still crying, and he puts his arms around her to hold her close.

"Fuck, Yance, 'm so--"

"Don't apologize." She moves away and places a magazine on the carpet between them. "Sit with your hands flat on this instead. What color?"

He does as he's told. "What d'ya mean 'what color'?"

"For your nails, dumbass."

The Aussie laughs. "Damn, didn't know we're good enough t' insult each other already, but I quite like that blue ya've got on."

"Blue'd look good on you." She nods.

As she begins on his right hand, silence reigns supreme once more, but it's lighter; it's a silence of compatriots broken occasionally by the TV or Max's snoring. She looks happy with her hair to her shoulders and blue nails, and it makes Chuck more accepting of the fact his nails will soon too be that same color: the blue that reminds him of Raleigh's-- and Yancy's too now that he gets a clear look at her face-- eyes. But even silence falls prey to companionship.

"Let's play twenty questions," she says, breaking the silence. "You go first."

"Why's tonight blue?" he asks.

"I like blue." She grins. "Why're you letting me do this?"

"Ya look lonely. Like, I know there're other people in the room, but ya still look alone an' I, um-- shit-- I..."

She stops painting his nails to look him in the eyes. "You what?"

"I, um, kind of like nail polish?" His face flushes bright red. "Not-- not that I've ever really painted them before!"

She laughs and it's a pleasant sound, the kind of laugh that makes others want to laugh too. "Aw, and you're so shy 'bout it! I can't believe the media turned this blushing dork who likes nail polish in front of me into such a dick."

"Thanks, but 'm kinda a dick still."

"Yeah, you are, but you're not entirely unpleasant."

"Same to you, Becket the elder."

She snorts. "Your pick: Yancy or Yance."

"A'ight, then, Yance, 's a pleasure t' finally talk t'ya fer real."

She smiles as she finishes up his last finger.

"The pleasure is all mine."

When Mako and Raleigh return the next morning, the tired and hungry duo tromps into the kitchen first for food. As Raleigh makes his way towards the living room where he hears the TV on very quietly, he's stopped by Mako who places a finger to his lip, silencing him.

She points towards the couch and whispers, "Raleigh, look."

And he just has to smile at the sight of his older sister and boyfriend passed out next to each other under a couple of blankets Raleigh knitted, a couple of half-empty mugs of hot chocolate resting on the coffee table, and, most importantly of all, big grins and matching sky blue nails.


End file.
